Stray Souls and Dark Whispers
by CursetheDarkness
Summary: Elise McAllister isn't the kind to take anything too seriously. Not herself. Not her power-hungry employer. Not even the damn apocalypse. But behind her playful smiles and repertoire of quotes and quips, Elise struggles against the inevitable. After all, a human soul can only hold out for so long.
1. Chapter 1: Audience with a Snake

_Disclaimer: I do not own Dominion. I do, however, own my OCs and additional plot lines that are clearly not from the show._

 _Please enjoy and let me know what you think._

 ** _Chapter 1: Audience with a Snake_**

Her blade plunged into the possessed's neck, snagging on dense muscle and bone before a final jerk cleanly severed its head from its body. A fine spray of dark mist filled the air, coating her face and t-shirt as she moved in to face another.

Elise raised her short sword, glistening with thick, dark blood, to block the claw aimed at her face. The possessed opened its mouth, bearing sharp fangs dripping with saliva, and expelled a breath. She cringed. The putrid stench burning her nose and making her eyes water.

A hand reached for her ankle. She felt jagged claws dig into her skin and a weak tug from a previous felled possessed trying to throw her off balance. Elise braced herself, planting her feet as she concentrated all her strength into wrenching the blade free.

It tore through the possessed's claws and, brandishing the sword in a wide arc, she slashed across its abdomen. The creature crumpled to the ground, black eyes wide and entrails emptying onto the dusty earth.

Elise reversed her blade and swiftly stabbed it through the neck of the last possessed, which promptly released its grip on her ankle. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply.

Adrenaline surged through her veins, fuelling the dark part of her that elated in the prospect of bloodshed. Her grip on the sword was relaxed, but her fingers twitched with a desire to plunge the blade into soft flesh.

"I thought I told you to stay inside." Elise opened her eyes and turned to look at the girl standing in the doorway of a decrepit shed.

The girl ignored her and surveyed the scene with an awestricken expression. Five corpses lay sprawled on the dusty earth around Elise, eyes open and glazed over. A small gasp escaped her when she caught sight of the severed head but a few feet away from her.

"Y-You killed them all," the girl whispered.

"Obviously." She watched as the colour slowly drained from girl's face. "Something wrong Florence?"

Russet brown eyes snapped to her, narrowing in disgust. "You _killed_ them."

The corner of Elise's mouth quirked into an amused smirk. "So I should have invited them in for tea instead?"

"No, but–"

"But what?"

Florence glanced at the severed head. "They were human once."

Elise watched her fidget uncomfortably, drawing the light grey cardigan tightly around her petite frame. The girl resembled her father in many ways. Her dirty blonde hair, dark eyes and olive complexion. Even every subtle facial expression, which communicated her thoughts clearly.

If only the girl shared the same mindset.

" _Once_ being the operative word." Elise placed the tip of her blade over the heart of the nearest corpse. "Their human selves are long gone. They're nothing but empty shells; puppets in the service of angels."

"But–"

"You're beginning to annoy me," she narrowed her eyes at the girl. "That childish naivety isn't nearly as charming as you think."

Florence glared at her. "At least I'm not a heartless bitch."

The moment those words left her lips, Florence clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide in surprise. Elise couldn't help but smirk at her reaction. Clearly her mother had raised her to be a decent little girl.

"I-I'm sorry. T-That was–"

"Don't ruin the moment by apologising." Elise chuckled, crouching down beside the corpse. "I'm finally starting to like you."

Using its shirt to wipe the blood from her blade, she sheath it and did a quick once over of the corpse. Elise hadn't expected to find anything, though she was somewhat disappointed anyway.

It had been a long while since she'd been faced with so many possessed. Coupled with the unsettling feeling she had experienced as of late, Elise suspected that something interesting was about to happen soon.

She rose, slipping the blade into the sheath strapped across her lower back. Without a second glance at Florence or the carnage she left in her wake, Elise walked over to the car and popped open the boot.

There was very little aside from a worn rucksack, a plastic bag containing food and water, and a handful of additional weaponry, including a standard issue military sniper rifle.

Bypassing the supplies, Elise tugged the rucksack closer and pulled out a spare shirt. She quickly went about stripping out of her bloody t-shirt, making sure to wipe her face and arms clean, before tugging on a dark grey long-sleeved top.

She tossed her ruined shirt into the boot, grabbed a bottle of water and slammed the door shut.

"Florence."

The girl had yet to move from her position, completely fixated on the bodies. Elise spared a glance at her when she failed to respond. Her shock was understandable. It was the first time Florence had witnessed such violence.

"Look at me." After a moment's hesitation, the girl met her calm gaze. "Get in the car." 

* * *

Florence had spent the last few hours fidgeting uncontrollably. Her legs bounced and her fingers tapped on the door-side armrest. It was her way of silently expressing her discomfort.

Something Elise had come to learn over the course of their lengthy journey. A habit she seemed to have unwittingly inherited from her father.

"I should hogtie you," Elise stated nonchalantly.

The girl blinked up at her. "What?"

"You're beginning to annoy me again." She glanced at the girl. "Stop squirming."

"Sorry _._ I can't exactly help it." Florence clasped her hands in her lap and frowned. "I-"

She hesitated, chewing on her lower lip as she squeezed her hands tightly. Her legs once again began to bounce. Elise felt her eye begin to twitch. She could see the movement in the corner of her eye and found it irritating beyond belief.

"Your father?"

Florence nodded sheepishly. "I might be a little nervous."

"What's the point?" She glanced at Elise, her brow furrowed in confusion. "You have no other choice, and Lester committed to taking you in, regardless of whether or not you get along."

"Are you always so… _uncaring_?"

The corner of Elise's mouth twitched. "Perhaps."

Unclasping her hands, Florence twisted in the seat to face Elise. Silence encompassed them as she took the time to observe the woman who had become her escort. Elise was focused on the road ahead, her piercing gaze observant and unwavering.

There was very little that escaped her notice, as Florence had been quick to learn during the course of their journey. She was smart and cunning and ruthless…and oddly magnetic.

Florence felt unsettled in her presence, but at the same time, knew that there was no safer place than by Elise's side. Still, Florence was curious as to why her father hadn't come to fetch her as well.

"You…know him well?"

"Well enough." Was Elise's curt reply.

Her dark eyes narrowed. "Care to elaborate?"

Elise spared a quick glance in her direction. "You want my honest opinion?"

"Yes."

"He's an arrogant, impulsive, intolerable bastard," she said without hesitation.

Taken by surprise, there was very little Florence could do aside from stare at the woman. She had hoped for something a bit more…pleasant… It was terrifying enough being forced from her home and into the care of someone she didn't know.

Some reassurance would have been nice.

"Maybe this is a mistake…" she muttered under her breath. "Maybe I should go back home…"

"Home? If you recall there's nothing left of it. Well, nothing but a pile of charred debris that is." Florence fisted her hands in the fabric of her dark purple dress and averted her eyes. "Lester's your only chance for survival. Accept it."

"You're unpleasant company. Has anyone ever told you that?"

A subtle smirk played on her lips as she veered the car to avoid a rotting caress in the middle of the road. "It's been mentioned."

Florence couldn't help but allow the smallest smile to show through her otherwise disheartened expression. Maybe it was Elise's obscure way of attempting to cheer her up.

"Despite his many _many_ flaws, Lester's a good man." Elise briefly met her gaze. "I trust him with my life."

Something in the tone of her voice struck a chord with Florence. A familiarity in those words that made her eyes widen slightly. Those words her mother had spoken before her death.

Florence tightened her grip on the fabric of her dress. It was still difficult to wrap her head around…her mother was dead. A dull ache bloomed in her chest and she closed her eyes.

"Look."

Opening her eyes, Florence stared at the concrete structure barely outlined in the distance. "That's Vega?"

As they drew nearer, she could begin to make out the various buildings that comprised the city, surrounded by a mountainous wall. It was the first time she had seen a city, and the prospect of so many people living in close quarters seemed almost unimaginable.

"It's a little overwhelming," she admitted.

"You'll get used to it."

Florence glanced at Elise. "Have you?"

She didn't respond, instead, reaching over to the glove compartment in front of Florence. Shuffling through the mess of papers inside, Elise removed a sealed envelope and handed it to her.

"This will grant you access into the city. I've made arrangements for a friend of mine to meet you at the wall and escort you safely to your father."

Florence accepted the envelope with slight hesitation. "What about you?"

"What _about_ me?"

"You're not coming with me?" The woman's silence was answer enough. "Will I see you again?"

A slight, almost ghostly smile appeared on her lips. "Perhaps."

Elise reached for the transceiver nestled in the cup holder by the armrest as they approached the city. Florence leant forward, peering up at the monstrous wall with a growing sense of apprehension.

Just looking at her new home made her feel claustrophobic, which was a ridiculous thought in itself. The city was enormous.

"McAllister, 4375. Transporting additional passenger," Elise spoke into the transceiver, her voice oddly authoritative.

Florence briefly wondered if the woman held some sort of military standing in Vega. It certainly wouldn't surprise her if such was the case. What she had learnt about Elise over the last week indicated that she could be nothing short of a capable leader.

"Open up, kids," Elise playfully demanded with a sly grin. "Mama needs a drink."

A soft sigh escaped Florence as she sat back in her seat. Or maybe not. Elise wasn't the kind to take any situation too seriously. Convening with others to make tactical decisions would be nothing short of disastrous.

" _You couldn't have stayed away a little longer, hey McAllister,_ " the deep voice responded over the transceiver.

"And leave that perfectly aged Scotch in the hands of someone so unappreciative? I think not."

" _Don't get cocky. Next win is mine._ "

"Whatever you say, Walsh. I expect you to pay up."

The man chuckled. " _Come on in,_ Mama."

Placing the transceiver back into the cup holder, Elise gave the slightest shake of her head. Florence stared curiously, not missing the lingering smile on the woman's lips.

"Is he your boyfriend?" She found herself asking.

Elise glanced at her, eyebrow raised. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, you were flirting, weren't you? I might not have had much interaction with other people, but I've read enough books to know flirting when I see it."

The screech of metal grating upon metal interrupted their conversation. Florence sat back in her seat to watch the gate open, willing to let the matter go for the moment. As of this moment, Elise was the only female presence in her life, and until Florence found someone more suitable, she would make do.

Passing through the gate, the car crawled to halt in a small loading area. Elise cut the gas and unclipped her seatbelt before reaching for her short sword. She seemed far too at ease about the situation, considering that they were surrounded by armed soldiers, all of whom seemed prepared to fire at the slightest whiff of danger.

"Relax." Her attention snapped to Elise, who wore the same calm expression she had used earlier to pacify Florence's fear. "Once they scan your eyes and confirm that you're not possessed, they'll seem far less threatening."

The smirk she wore brought Florence some comfort and the girl managed a hesitant smile in return. Elise was the first out of the car, not once objecting to the unnecessary manhandling as a black device was held in front of her face.

Florence jerked when her passenger-side door flew open. A hand gripped her arm tightly and hauled her from the vehicle. She instinctively struggled against the soldier's grip, but was easily subdued by him.

Elise witnessed the girl's panic in the corner of her eye and gave a mute sigh. Florence was nervous, understandably so given the nature of the circumstances which brought her to Vega. But it was clear that, despite her eloquence, the girl was not in control of her emotions.

"Hey." The soldier holding the terrified girl looked up at Elise. "Go easy on her. She's not used to strangers."

"Not my problem," he replied gruffly.

Her lips tugged into a wicked smirk. "You'll make it your problem if you want to keep your station."

The soldier hesitated, his dark eyes glistening with uncertainty as he searched her face. It was a moment longer before he complied with her 'request' and loosened his hold on Florence, who relaxed a bit.

Elise narrowed her eyes at the soldier and jerked her head to the left. With some reluctance, he stepped back, giving Florence a wide enough berth so that she relaxed entirely. The girl opened her eyes and, after a quick glance at Elise, allowed the soldier wielding the scanner to approach her.

"He looks like he's about to piss himself." Elise turned as a tall, dark-haired soldier stepped up to her with an amused smile on his lips. "I lose more good men to you than those bloody eight-balls."

"Such a bitter accusation," she replied. "I know something that just might make you forgive me."

Her fingers glided up his arm with a deliberate slowness as she moved in closer. A playful smile quirked her mouth as his arm instinctively wrapped around her waist. His attention darted to the surrounding soldiers, clearly uncomfortable with the small display of affection.

Elise would have laughed, but she found his reaction far too endearing to spoil just yet. Walsh was a private man and, whilst she had managed to open him up to the notion of flirting in public, public displays of affection were still a working progress.

"Elise," he murmured as her face drew nearer.

His eyes flickered to her lips and, after a moment of hesitation, gave a sigh of defeat. Walsh tightened his grip on her waist and leant forward to meet her halfway. At the last second, just as her lips were about to brush his, a sly grin materialised on Elise's face and she pulled away.

Walsh blinked at her, processing the situation before narrowing his eyes. "Minx."

"You make it so easy for me, Walsh," Elise replied teasingly. "How am I supposed to resist turning your ears that adorable shade of red?"

A snicker from the sidelines had Walsh's glare snap to the trio of soldiers standing by the main entrance. They immediately sobered up, clearing their throats and averting their gaze to avoid another accidental slip-up.

"How can one woman cause me so much trouble?" Walsh muttered under his breath as his green eyes landed on her face. "Don't answer that."

"I think you should ease up a little. Taking yourself too seriously all the time only sucks the joy out of life."

"This coming from you. When's the last time you took anything seriously?"

Elise grinned. "About a month ago, when I considered dropping your ass."

He brought his left hand up to rub the back of his neck and awkwardly cleared his throat. "Let's not bring that up ever again."

Walsh glanced over at the blonde girl shifting nervously in front of the passenger-side door. The girl hadn't moved an inch, clearly ill at ease under the steely gaze of the soldier Elise had berated.

"That's Lester's daughter?" Elise nodded and his dark brows shot up in surprise. "Are you sure? Such a pretty little darling can't be related to that idiot."

"You'd be surprised." She tilted her head to look over her shoulder. "Florence."

The girl ripped her attention from the soldier and focused on Elise, who beckoned her to them with a nonchalant wave. Florence stopped beside her and, upon noticing the rather tall and imposing man watching her, began to fidget again.

"Keep squirming and I really will hogtie you."

Walsh blinked at her. "Hogtie?"

" _Un_. _Pleasant_ ," Florence said with narrowed eyes.

A smirk touched Elise's lips as she glanced at the girl. "Florence, meet Walsh. He'll be the one escorting you home."

Florence hesitantly met his gaze, her eyes glimmering with uncertainty. Walsh, having noticed her discomfort, graced her with the gentlest smile he could muster. He was somewhat relieved when the girl responded positively to the gesture and visibly relaxed.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Florence." With his arm across his waist, Walsh gave a gentlemanly bow, which elicited a soft giggle from the girl. "Welcome to Vega."

"Thank you, Mr. Walsh," Florence replied quietly, her gaze flickering back to Elise.

The woman observed the exchange with mild interest. "Now that the two of you are all friendly, I'll be heading out."

Walsh gently grabbed her arm as she made to walk away, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "I'll drop by tonight?"

"I don't know. I'm a girl with a busy schedule." Elise smiled playfully. "And right now I have an audience with a snake." 

* * *

Elise sat across from Consul David Whele, her arms draped casually over the armrests and her legs crossed. She had been escorted to his office a few minutes ago by two of his personal guard, both of whom were now stationed at the door.

Apparently the dear Consul thought she would make a break for it. An impish smile tugged at her lips and he narrowed his gaze.

"This is no joking matter," he said. "Were you anyone else, I would have your head."

"It makes me all warm and fuzzy inside to know that you think so highly of me," Elise replied offhandedly. "My life's only worth something because I'm useful."

"Indeed. And so long as you continue to be of use to me, you'll be provided with everything your little heart desires." He sat back in his chair, the fingers of his right hand drumming softly against the desk. "There was a good reason for your delay, I presume."

"You presume right." She curled her fist under her chin and regarded him with a cool expression. "I just _had_ to go sightseeing. You know, it's not often I'm allowed to go out and play, so I do my best to make the most of it."

Unamused by her attempt to lighten the mood, Consul Whele got to his feet and circled around the desk. Elise watched him with a veiled awareness as he came to a stop in front of her.

"I'm beginning to consider the possibility that you've outlived your usefulness." He leant back against the desk and folded his arms across his chest, appraising her with calculating eyes. "Unless, of course, you have something to report."

Elise refrained from chuckling at his purposefully blatant threat. The Consul was a man of artful words, dishing out veiled warnings to those who dared cross him. When it came to her, however, he was far more direct in his approach.

She was not averse to wordplay, nor was she incapable of grasping subtle insinuations. It was simply a matter of preference. And Elise preferred when others were blunt about their intentions

"The delegation from Helena will be arriving tonight, as per your request. Evelyn intends to send her consort, I believe you're familiar with her."

"I see," he touched his chin thoughtfully. "And what of the fleet? Are the rumours true."

Elise inclined her head. "As far as I can tell. They certainly didn't make it easy for me to look around. I suppose I should have expected as much being sent as _your_ envoy."

A devilish smirk touched his lips. "With Helena's fleet at our disposal we may very well win this war."

"And provide a demonstration of Vega's strength to the survivors," she added. "The new world will need a leader after all."

Green eyes narrowed in warning and, again, she smiled. Consul Whele uncrossed his arms and leant forward. His hands came to rest on the back of the chair, positioned at either side of her head as he moved his face nearer.

She remained unperturbed by his closeness, staring back calmly as his piercing gaze sought to reveal something.

"What aren't you tell me," he demanded in a deceptively soothing tone.

The corner of her mouth quirked into a lopsided grin. "Nothing too exciting, I assure you."

"Is that so?"

She felt his fingers brush the top of her left ear before drawing back to reveal flakes of dried blood. He examined it as though it were the most interesting thing in the room before turning his gaze back to Elise.

"Well, would you look at that," she remarked flippantly.

Consul Whele slammed his hand against the back of the chair. "Care to try again?"

"Since you ask so sweetly." His brow twitched in annoyance, eliciting a chuckle from Elise. "I had a run in with an eight-ball, or five."

He immediately pulled away. "Five?"

"Not to worry, Consul. They're far too dead to pose any problems."

"You killed them all."

"That's what I just said." She watched him curiously, noticing that he seemed far less surprised by the reemergence of such a large group of the possessed. "Did something happen while I was away?"

Turning his back on her, Consul Whele circled around the desk and took a seat. "A soldier snuck out of the city this morning. He claimed to have encountered three eight-balls, one of which followed him back here."

He reached for the bottle of Scotch sitting on the small silver tray on his desk and poured himself a drink. Elise watched with narrowed eyes, knowing full well that this was his way of passively enacting his revenge for her tardiness.

"The people of Vega have grown complacent over the years. We live in comfort and safety, neglecting the dangers beyond these walls." He sipped at his drink. "It's time we reminded the people of the reality they face."

Elise furrowed her brow in guarded curiosity. "What are you suggesting?"

An overly charming smile appeared on his lips as he set the glass on the desk and gently pushed it towards her. Elise sat forward, catching it before it slipped off the table and onto the floor. She quirked an eyebrow in question.

"I hope you will attend the Jubilee tomorrow evening, as my guest, of course."

Her eyes flickered from his unsettlingly sweet smile to the glass in her hand. After a brief moment of contemplation, she raised the glass out to him and tipped her head slightly.

"Gladly," she replied before downing the remaining Scotch.


	2. Chapter 2: Migraine

_Hey guys! Thanks for all those who favoured, followed and reviewed. I really do appreciate your support. This will be the last "introductory" chapter, and a certain Archangel will definitely appear in the next one. Enjoy!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Dominion. I do, however, own my OCs and additional plot lines that are clearly not from the show._

 _ **Chapter 2: Migraine**_

"You should definitely make this a regular thing."

Her eyes trailed upwards from his black slacks to his fitted navy shirt, appreciating the way in which it moulded against his muscular arms. She glanced briefly at the bottle in his hand before finally focusing on his face.

"Showing up on my doorstep in the wee hours of the morning with a bottle of Scotch is a major turn-on," Elise remarked with an appreciative smirk.

A small, if somewhat disapproving smile tugged at his lips, though he was reluctant to let it materialise completely. Running a hand through his tousled hair, Walsh gently moved past her and into the small flat.

He made his way to the kitchenette without a word and reached for the cupboard over the sink. Elise watched him liberate two glasses before closing the front door and moving to join him at the breakfast bar.

"Are you going to speak to me at some point, or are you going to keep pouting?" She asked as she sat on the nearest bar stool.

Walsh meaningfully cracked open the Scotch he brought with him and poured two drinks, one of which he pushed towards her. Elise accepted it, her attention focused on him even as she brought the glass to her lips. There was obviously something troubling him, she could discern that much from the way he acted.

A deep frown knitted his brow and his eyes were trained on the counter, conflicted and unseeing. The last time she had seen him like this was when his sister had tried to coerce him into siphoning off extra rations for the orphanage.

"Are you attending the Jubilee?"

Elise tapped her index finger against her glass. "Not by choice."

Walsh finally met her eyes. "Any chance you can get out of it?"

"Any reason I should want to?"

He hesitated, which only piqued her curiosity. Her gaze flickered to his hand, curled around his glass so tightly that it turned his skin white. A pregnant paused settled over them.

She leant forward, tilting her head slightly to look at his face. "Walsh?"

Walsh downed his drink in one go before setting his glass down with an unnecessary forcefulness. "He's got a bloody eight-ball. We caught it an hour ago trying to get into the city."

"Given the nature of my conversation with him yesterday, I'm going to assume you're talking about Whele." Elise sat back and resumed tapping her glass. "He's the only one arrogant enough to do something so stupid."

"That man is playing a dangerous game. As well prepared as we are, those things are dangerous and unpredictable. If it gets out–"

"–then make sure it doesn't."

Walsh gave her a look. "What part of unpredictable don't you understand?"

"The part where you'll have capable, _armed_ men stationed around whatever cage the Consul decides to put that thing in. And if it does get loose, there's really only one place it'll go."

"Oh really?" He quirked an eyebrow. "And where would that be?"

She grinned playfully. "Up, of course."

Walsh gave a breathy chuckle and shook his head. Stepping around the breakfast bar, he moved behind her. Elise felt his chest press against her back as his hands grabbed the counter on either side of her.

"How you manage to make light of these situations is beyond me," he murmured softly. "But I appreciate the effort."

"Do you now?" She tilted her head slightly as his soft lips ghosted across her skin.

He pressed a kiss just below her ear. "I really do."

Pushing back gently with her shoulder, Elise gained enough room to swivel around and face him. "What time do you start?"

"Not until midday." Walsh moved between her legs and brought his hands up to cup her neck, his thumbs brushing along her jaw. "I'm all yours for the next seven hours."

* * *

When Elise exited her flat that morning, it was with the knowledge that she had left a very handsome and _naked_ man sleeping in her bed. Unfortunately, whilst the prospect of another go-round when he woke up was tempting, she had a more pressing matter to attend to.

She carefully navigated the wet, grimy tunnels beneath Vega. What had once been a complex sewer system before the Extermination War, now served as the dwelling place of Vega's V1 citizens.

They were the lower class, those with no skills to speak of and therefore had nothing to contribute to the city. They were both despised and pitied by many of the higher class, but very rarely would those with any influence attempt to ease their suffering.

Grim-faced and vacant eyed, the V1s stared at her as she walked past. Some reached out, hoping that she would take pity on them, but most resolved to shoot her steely glares.

She had garnered herself a reputation amongst the V1s as Consul Whele's dog, and thus found their hatred for him directed at her. Which is why Elise thought it rather ironic that they also happened to be her most reliable informants.

It only took a few ration cards to convince them that supplying her with a steady stream of accurate intelligence was the best way to survive. They were desperate and easily overlooked, which made them incredibly suited to eavesdropping on otherwise important conversations.

Jem had lectured her many times, making mention of how immoral her methods were and how she was exploiting the less fortunate. Elise didn't quite agree. She gave them a purpose, a means of survival, unlike Vega's elite.

Turning into a narrow, almost claustrophobic tunnel, Elise came upon a small hovel hastily constructed against the wall. Pieces of debris were used to create the side walls and roof, whilst an assortment of grimy and tattered rags formed the entrance.

"Melvin."

There was a startled grunt from inside the hovel, followed closely by a dull thud and poorly muffled swear. Elise crossed her arms, her mouth quirking into an amused smile as she watched Melvin scurry out of his home.

Muddy brown eyes glared at her from a heavily wrinkled face covered in a thick layer of filth. His peppered hair fell in greasy, matted clumps and his scraggly beard was littered with remnants of what Elise could only assume to be whatever food he'd managed to get his hands on.

"Whatcha doin' here?" He asked gruffly.

"I come bearing gifts," she replied, removing a thin stack of ration cards from her pocket. "There's enough to last a week, maybe two if you can stretch it that far."

Melvin eyed the stack with guarded eagerness. "What'll it cost me this time?"

"Information, of course." She smiled, teasingly waving the stack. "I have a pressing need to find the – _Black Acolytes_ , I believe they call themselves."

"I've heard of them. Don't know much, mind you."

"Give me something, Melvin. A location? A name?" She pressed.

He stroked his beard in thoughtful contemplation, twisting the wiry ends around his thick fingers. "Might've heard somethin' from Leafer. Lemme see."

Melvin turned his back on her and shambled into his hovel, muttering unintelligible words under his breath. Elise slipped the stack of rations into her pocket as she took in the hovel. It was certainly an improvement to his last home.

She reached out and gently caressed a strip of begrimed lace. It was simple, yet beautiful, and reminded her greatly of something that she had once treasured. A small smile touched her lips.

"Found the bitch," came a disgruntled voice.

Her smile fell and she raised an eyebrow. She glanced over her shoulder towards the entrance of the narrow tunnel where a trio of men were loitering. They were much younger than Melvin, perhaps even younger than her. And they appeared to be rather angry with her.

The tallest of them graced her with a sickening grin. "Well, ain'tcha a dear little thing. Almost a shame, really. But a deal's a deal, and I've been told to put the pretty pup down."

"So this isn't a social call, then. How disappointing." Carefully placing the lace back, Elise turned to face them. "And here I was hoping you'd invite me out for a night on the town. It's been a while since I've had some good old-fashioned fun, you know."

"Oh, we'll have plenty of fun, don'tcha worry about that," he replied with a smirk. "It'll be slow and memorable."

She treated him to a coy smile of invitation. "All talk and no play. Why don't you hurry up and make my day?"

With a jerk of his head, the men flanking him began to move forward. Elise flexed her fingers as she watched them. They approached cautiously, a degree of hesitation in every step.

Their hesitation was unwarranted though, considering that they had the upper hand at the moment. Both were larger and physically stronger; one carried a metal pipe, the other a dagger as long as his forearm. If they attacked her together, even with the knife hidden at the small of her back, it was unlikely that she would come out of it unscathed.

But then, she'd never been averse to a couple of scratches. Especially for the sake of a little fun.

Excitement and anticipation made her blood grow hot. A low hum in the back of her mind reacted to those emotions, provoking her, urging her with the promise of a thrill.

It wanted blood.

Elise narrowed her eyes. She found herself all too willing to comply with the demand. They were only V1s. Murderers and thieves and rapists. They had no reason for being, no purpose, no place in this world.

She reached behind her, fingers curling around the hilt of her knife. The familiarity of the soft leather only succeeded in augmenting her emotion. The hum grew louder and harsher. It lusted for them. _She_ lusted for them.

She wanted to slice them open, to see the blood drain from their pathetic bodies. She wanted to feel the warmth of it on her skin. Her mouth twitched as she fought back a grin. It would feel so lovely.

"Tanner."

A spark of sanity. Elise immediately removed her hand from her knife, eyes widening but a fraction. She stepped away, pressing her back up against the grimy wall as she cradled her head. Whilst the hum was gone, left in its wake was an all too familiar throbbing.

She had come so close…

Melvin didn't spare her a glance as he approached the trio. The man Elise had spoken to, Tanner, was no longer smiling. A deep frown marred his youthful mien, expressing both his disapproval and disappointment.

"Whatcha up to, boy?" The older man questioned.

"Get outta the way, Melvin. I gotta lot of respect for ya, but the pup's pissed off the wrong people."

"Who's she not pissed off?" Melvin gave a gruff chuckle. "Girl's got a nasty habit of makin' enemies. Your boss has just gotta wait his turn."

Tanner narrowed his eyes. "You vouching for her?"

His question was met with silence. Melvin stared at him with a frightening intensity, one that made Tanner hesitate. There were rumours about the man, who chose to live a solitary life and limit his contact with others. Most speculated that he was a crazy old man, but there were others who thought different.

There was more to him than met the eye, of that Tanner was certain. Something dark and dangerous lurked beyond his otherwise less than intimidating appearance.

"Alright, then. I'll leave it alone." A smirk materialised on Tanner's face. "For now."

Another jerk of his head had the two men follow him out. Melvin watched them leave, unmoving even after the trio were long out of sight. Only when he was entirely certain that they were gone did he turn to face Elise.

He eyed her closely but made no move to approach her. She gently massaged her temples with the heels of her palms, her eyes closed and her lips pursed in concentration.

"You all right?" His gruff tone held an underlying concern.

"Fine." Elise opened her eyes, the corner of her mouth quirking into a playful smile. "I never knew you were so protective of me, Melvin. How adorable."

He scoffed. "Don't get cocky. You're useful, s'all."

"If you say so," she replied, pushing away from the wall. "Did you find anything?"

Melvin stared for a moment longer before reaching into his pocket and producing a tattered flyer. Eyebrow raised, Elise accepted it and glanced over the once glossy image.

"It's a recruitment flyer."

"You're a sharp one." His sardonic quip brought a smile to her lips. "Leafer mentioned somethin' about a blue shirt. Rumour has it one's been roamin' the tunnels praisin' the Archangel."

Elise frowned. "Vega's Archangel?"

"The other one."

She had always found the notion of religion puzzling, but none bemused her more than the Black Acolytes. Followers of the Archangel Gabriel, who worshiped and revered the angels despite the destruction they had perpetrated. Elise couldn't stand for that.

"You're telling me that there's an Acolyte masquerading as a soldier." Elise handed the flyer back to him. "I need specifics, Melvin."

He quirked an eyebrow. "S'all I got."

Elise met his gaze, searching for any indication that he was holding something back. It appeared Melvin knew nothing more than he had told her. She grinned at him and fished the stack of rations from her pocket.

"A promise is a promise," she said, slapping them into his awaiting hand. "Keep your ear to the ground. You know how to reach me if you find something interesting."

* * *

Elise stifled a groan as she gently kneaded her temples. The rhythmic throbbing had persisted for the last few hours despite her drinking copious amounts of Scotch. She glanced at the half empty bottle sitting on her bedside.

Maybe she should pay Lester a visit. Granted she wasn't particularly fond of hospitals, she preferred to avoid them all together in fact, but if the alcohol wasn't doing the trick then she'd need medication.

Rummaging through the top draw, she grabbed a ration slip for medication. There were certainly perks to working for David Whele, even if he was a slimy, manipulative bastard. Additional medication was one of them. It came in handy, given her pension for injuries.

She grabbed her jacket from the sofa and slipped it on as she made her way out of the flat. She crossed over the footbridge and navigated the busy market streets. The clamour of bartering customers only served to worsen her migraine and she quickened her pace the moment the hospital came into view.

When she stepped into the ward, the sickening smell of disinfectant assaulted her. Her features scrunched up in revulsion. She absolutely _detested_ it. The smell brought up unpleasant thoughts and reminded her of how fragile the human race really was.

Death was not something Elise feared, nor was she appalled by it. Actually, she found the promise of death rather comforting. A chance to finally rest after years of pain and struggle. But not like this. Not lying in a hospital bed, crippled and broken.

"Elise?" A middle-aged woman with a kindly face approached her. "I haven't seen you in a while. Is something wrong?"

"I'm just stopping by to say hello," Elise replied with a smile. "Is Lester in?"

The woman mirrored her smile. "He's tending to a patient. Twelfth bed, on the left."

"Thanks, Ruth."

Gently patting the woman's arm, Elise made her way down the aisle, avoiding so much as a glance at the occupied hospital beds lining the walls. As she came to the twelfth bed, the curtain drawn about it was pulled back and a handsome blond man sporting white scrubs stepped out.

"Lester."

His attention snapped to her and his previously dour expression morphed into an almost child-like glee. "Elise!"

Powerful arms trapped her in a bone-crushing embrace. The breath knocked from her lungs, Elise patted his back with a necessary forcefulness. At this rate, she really would die in a hospital.

Lester seemed to take the hint and pulled away. "I was expecting you yesterday, but you didn't show. You had me worried."

"Did I now?" She crossed her arms with a knowing smile. "So it wasn't just about you having to deal with your daughter alone? I can imagine it was rather awkward."

"You're enjoying this far too much," Lester replied with a disapproving glare. "And you just _had_ to send loverboy in your place, huh? She sent more smiles his way than I like."

"What's this? Not even a day gone by and you're already playing the overprotective father. Parenthood suits you."

"It really doesn't."

She stifled a chuckle which only further aggravated her migraine. Pressing the heel of her palm against her forehead, Elise gave a shaky sigh. The pain was certainly more intense than she would have liked.

"Elise, what's wrong?"

"Migraine," she murmured.

"You sure that's all it is?" He stepped closer and gently removed her hand. "You look tired. Have you been sleeping?"

Elise managed a half-smile. "I've been doing more _interesting_ things."

Understanding her meaning, his face twisted in disgust. "That's more information than I cared for."

"Here." She fished the ration card from her pocket. "Mind giving me something for it?"

Lester ignored her as she slowly waved the card in front of him. His brow furrowed in concern, he gently cupped her cheek and pressed his forehead to hers. Elise blinked up at him.

"You don't appear to have a fever," he noted as he pulled away. "Are they becoming more frequent?"

"It only happens when I overexert myself."

Brown eyes narrowed in frustration. "Enough with the innuendos. This could be serious."

"Nothing some meds and a bottle of Scotch won't fix," Elise replied with a grin.

"Don't mix alcohol with medication." Taking hold of her arm, Lester guided her to the nearest empty bed. "Let me check you over just to make sure."

Elise reluctantly complied, sitting on the edge of the bed as he retrieved his medical equipment. The sooner Lester concluded that nothing was wrong, the sooner he would prescribe her medication, and the sooner she'd be able to hightail it out of there.

A thermometer in her mouth and several examinations later, Lester confirmed that she appeared to be perfectly healthy. She could have told him as much without all the unnecessary prodding.

"Take one every four to six hours as needed," he said, removing a small plastic bottle from the cabinet and handing it to her. "If the migraine persists or gets worse, I want you back here for further evaluation."

"Doctor mode is a lot more attractive on you than your off-the-clock persona." Elise grinned, unscrewing the cap and popping a pill.

Lester scoffed. "I happen to take my job very seriously."

Quirking an eyebrow, she stared at him, unconvinced by his assertion. "You became a doctor so you could impress–"

"Florence," he said loudly.

She glanced over her shoulder at the anxious, grim-faced girl. Florence's eyes flickered uncomfortably around the room, taking in the sick and elderly who occupied the beds. Apparently she hadn't heard her father, or even noticed their presence.

"Florence," Elise called.

A look of surprise and elation crossed the girl's face as she snapped her attention to the woman seated on a bed. "Elise!"

Forgetting her previous discomfort, Florence hurried towards them. The moment she was within reach, the girl quite literally flung herself forward. Elise caught her around the waist and managed to steady herself. The bed made an unsightly creak.

Elise glanced up at Lester with a questioning look, to which the man responded with a furrowed brow. When Florence pulled away, hands still resting on Elise's shoulders, she still didn't acknowledge her father's presence.

Perhaps it wasn't just a case of awkwardness.

"I didn't think I was going to see you again, but here you are," Florence said excitedly.

"Here I am," Elise affirmed with a lopsided smile as she got to her feet. "But I was just leaving."

"But–"

Turning to Lester, Elise slipped the plastic bottle into her pocket. "Appreciate the pick-me-up."

Without a second look, she made for the exit, eager to avoid whatever uneasy conversation was about to occur between father and estranged daughter. Unfortunately for her, said exit wasn't nearly as close as she would have liked.

"Elise." She reluctantly stopped and glanced back at Lester, who wore an unusually forced smile. "Mind doing me a favour?"

* * *

Elise stood at the very back of the room as the Principate conducted his sermon. Her gaze was firmly fixed on the altar, upon which sat a sculpture. A baby cradled gently in two large hands. It was a symbol of such vehement faith, a concept she had some difficulty understanding.

She understood the need for hope. Desperate men of waning resolve were useless in this new world, and simply fighting for survival wouldn't accomplish anything. People needed something to rally behind, a figure capable of rekindling the conviction they had lost during the years of bloody conflict. A Saviour.

Yet this belief brought about a slew of problems. The people stood idle, imprisoned within the very walls they had built to protect themselves, waiting to be rescued. They were completely reliant on the Saviour to bring about a great change, instead of doing something about it themselves.

How long would they wait? As the years passed, graced not by the blessing of their beloved Saviour but by the harsh reality of what existed beyond the walls, what little remained of their hope would spoil and resentment would take root in their hearts.

Such blind dependence, on anyone other than themselves, was dangerous.

"Miss McAllister."

Elise blinked, focusing her attention on the brunet approaching her with Florence in tow. "Principate. Quite the riveting sermon."

"Truthfully, I was surprised to see you decided to attend," he said with a smile. "I was under the impression that you though it pointless."

"It gives people a reason to hope." She glanced briefly at Florence. "Did you enjoy it?"

Florence met William's gaze and smiled. "It was enlightening."

"You don't say," Elise replied, turning to William. "I'd like a word in private, if you don't mind."

He graciously nodded. "Of course."

"Stay," she ordered the curious girl before following after William.

Elise was led into a small room behind the alter. It was sparsely decorated and served as a private area the Principate could write his sermons. She heard the door close behind her as she stopped in front of the desk.

"Are you having a crisis of faith?"

With an amused half-smile, she turned to face him, crossing her arms as she perched on the edge of the desk. "Good to know your idea of a joke is vastly different to your father's. He wouldn't by any chance be going senile?"

There was a brief pause as understanding dawned on him. "You know."

"Obviously. And for me to be questioning his sanity, means it's an idiotic idea." She drummed her fingers against her upper arm. "There's only one, right?"

"Yes."

"What about additional security?"

William casually clasped his hands behind his back. "Father hasn't provided me with the details, but he's convinced everything will go according to his plan."

"Of course he is. He's David _bloody_ Whele," she remarked. "I need to speak with him."

"I'm afraid that isn't possible. At least, not until after the Jubilee," William replied with a frown. "I agree that my father acted recklessly, bringing one into the city, but he would never knowingly put the citizens of Vega in danger."

Elise raised an eyebrow, but made no comment on the matter. However strained their relationship, she knew that William would defend his father's character in this instance. He needed to believe his father was doing the right thing.

It was just her plain bad luck that forced her to be involved with them. The skills she had, David Whele had use for. And so long as she remain useful to him, she had some semblance of a normal life.

But was it so difficult to have a night off? The Jubilee was meant to be a celebration of their freedom. She'd hoped to do a little drinking, a little dancing, maybe even have a threesome, if she could finally convince Walsh to go along with it.

Instead, Elise was left with a nagging feeling in the back of her mind; a sneaking suspicion that told her something would go terribly wrong.

William moved behind his desk and sat, gaze boring into her back for a moment longer before settling on the blank sheet of paper in front of him. "That young lady waiting for you outside, is she the reason you altered your arrangement with my father?"

"It was meant to be a private affair, but I'm not surprised you know."

"He made a point to gloat," he said. "I'm certain he's only ever dreamt of having you on such a tight leash."

"I hope not." Elise straightened and turned to face him with a suggestive grin. "He's old enough to be _my_ father."

William stuttered, a rather disgusted look on his face. "T-That isn't what I meant."

"Come now, Principate, don't look so scandalised. Sex is a perfectly natural thing–"

"–please tell me we're not having this conversation," he pleaded, covering his face with his hand.

Elise couldn't hold back her laughter. "I swear, you amuse me more than anyone else."

"I'm not entirely sure that's a good thing."

She muffled her laughter; his comment only serving to fuel her amusement. Working for House Whele, it was comforting to know that at least William was tolerable. He was decent enough company, when he wasn't preaching of course, and she found his reactions to the 'X' rated aspects of life all too entertaining.

"Will you be attending the Jubilee tonight?" He suddenly asked.

"Your father insisted. And, now that I know one of the possessed is being used as the main attraction, I can't very well skip out," she replied, moving towards the door. "It should be fun, so long as nothing too horrific happens."


End file.
